19. ZARA
ZARA
Courthouse Wedding
My fingers tighten slightly around the edge of the counter, grounding myself.
This is my fucking wedding we’re talking about. I don’t take that lightly. So yeah—it’s natural to feel nervous.
But it’s not just nerves twisting in my stomach right now. It’s… something else, too. Excitement. Anticipation. A flicker of something dangerously close to joy.
“Okay,” I say carefully, not wanting to show too much.
Because for him, this is about the custody case. I know that. And I agreed to it. I knew what I was signing up for.
Jaxon is watching me—not like before, not like at the gala or in the car. This time, it’s different. Like he’s bracing himself. Like he expects me to bolt.
I won’t.
“We need to move fast,” he says. “Faster than I planned.”
My stomach flips, but I nod.
“That makes sense,” I say. “After… today. So what does that look like?”
His gaze flicks over my face, like he’s measuring something.
“How do you feel about a simple courthouse wedding?” he asks. “We could get an appointment quickly. Just the two of us and witnesses. Then the paperwork is done.”
Wow.
It’s efficient. Practical. Probably the smartest way to handle this.
And completely unromantic.
For Lily, I remind myself.
“Just us?” I ask.
“Just us,” he confirms.
A small breath leaves me.
There’s something oddly… relieving about that.
I swallow. “Okay.”
Then I ask the question that’s been sitting heavy in my chest since he said the word fast.
“When?”
His answer comes without hesitation. “Tomorrow.”
The world tilts and I blink at him. “Tomorrow?”
He nods once. “We already have the engagement public. The longer we wait, the more scrutiny we invite.”
“Tomorrow,” I repeat, my voice quieter now.
That’s not soon. That’s immediate.
I let out a small, disbelieving breath. “Wow.”
His expression shifts, just slightly. “Too fast?” he asks.
There’s something careful in his tone now. Something that wasn’t there before.
I think about it.
About the way Lily looks at Jaxon.
About the way Jaxon looks at Lily.
About everything he’s risking.
About everything I’m stepping into.
About the fact that I already feel more tied to this family than I should.
I lift my gaze to his. “No,” I say.
His brows draw together slightly. “No?”
“It’s not too fast,” I clarify. “It’s just… a lot to wrap my head around.”
His shoulders ease just a fraction.
“We’ll keep it simple,” he says. “I’ll have Simone handle the paperwork first thing in the morning. We’ll need IDs, signatures, a couple of witnesses. That’s it.”
I nod once more. “Okay.”
Another pause.
“What about Lily?” I ask softly.
That’s the part that matters. More than anything else.
His expression shifts again, softer this time.
“I’ll talk to her,” he says. “Explain it in a way she can understand.”
His gaze drops to my mouth for a fraction of a second before lifting again.
“Then that’s settled,” I say, aiming for lightness. “Tomorrow, we get married.”
He swallows. “Tomorrow,” he echoes.
And just like that—there’s no going back.
***
I wake up before my alarm.
For a second, I don’t know why my heart is already racing. The ceiling above me is unfamiliar in that early-morning haze, soft gray light filtering through the curtains. Then it hits.
Today.
“Oh my God,” I whisper into the quiet room. “Today is my wedding day.”
The words sound ridiculous out loud. Like I’m joking. Like I’m talking about a brunch reservation or a dentist appointment.
I’m getting married today.
To my boss.
To a man I met in a bar. Slept with. Argued with. Agreed to fake a life with.
My stomach flips.
There it is again—that mix of nerves and something dangerously close to excitement.
Oh God. This is a recipe for disaster, and someone—me—is going to get hurt.
But there’s no backing out now.
Because the moment I said yes—really said it—I crossed a line I can’t uncross. Not without consequences. Not without hurting people who don’t deserve it.
Lily.
The thought settles everything. Of course I’m doing this.
I push myself out of bed, moving on autopilot at first. Shower. Teeth. Hair. The kind of routine that usually grounds me, but today it feels distant, like I’m watching myself from the outside.
Like I’m playing a version of me who is calm and capable—and not someone who’s secretly giddy at the thought of being kissed by her husband on her wedding day.
I open my closet and just… stare.
What does one wear to a courthouse wedding that isn’t really a wedding?
My gaze lands on a simple cream dress I packed when I moved here. Knee-length. Clean lines. Soft fabric. Nothing flashy. Nothing that screams bride.
It feels right.
I slip it on, smoothing the material over my hips. It fits well—maybe a little too well. Like it suddenly matters more than it did yesterday.
I keep everything else minimal. Light makeup. Hair down, softly styled. No statement jewelry.
Except, of course, my silver heart pendant.
I hesitate for half a second before fastening it around my neck.
Then I glance at myself in the mirror. I don’t look like a bride. I just look like… me.
A soft knock sounds at the door.
My breath catches.
“Yeah?” I call, trying to sound normal.
The door opens a second later, and Jaxon steps inside.
And for a moment, everything else just… fades.
He’s not in a suit. Dark slacks, a crisp white shirt, the top button undone.
Effortlessly put together.
His gaze finds me—and holds.
My pulse stutters.
“This okay?” I ask, gesturing vaguely at myself, suddenly unsure.
His jaw flexes slightly. “Yeah,” he says, his voice lower than usual. “More than okay.”
Something warm flickers in my chest. “Good,” I say, even though my voice comes out softer than I intend.
“Are you ready?” he asks after a moment.
I let out a small breath. “As I’ll ever be.”
That almost earns me a smile. Almost.
He nods once. “Let’s go.”
The drive to the courthouse is quiet, both of us lost in our own thoughts—probably circling what this means for our future.
We sit side by side in the backseat. Not touching. And I’m caught between wanting that reassurance from him and knowing I probably couldn’t handle it without falling apart.
“Are you okay?” he asks suddenly, without looking at me.
I turn my head slightly. “Yeah. You?”
A beat. “Yeah.”
The courthouse is… underwhelming.
Fluorescent lights. Beige walls. Rows of plastic chairs. A security line that looks like every other government building I’ve ever been in.
This is it? This is where people get married?
Jaxon gestures toward the check-in desk. “We need to sign in.”
“Right,” I say, following him.
We give our names. IDs. Sign papers that feel far too official for how surreal this still is.
Then we’re told to wait. We sit side by side in a row of chairs.
Across from us, a couple in their twenties holds hands, whispering and smiling nervously.
Next to them, an older pair sits in silence, comfortable and familiar.
Finally, our names are called. “Zara Winslow. Jaxon Halberg.”
I stand, my legs slightly unsteady.
We follow the clerk down a short hallway into a small room.
No decorations. No music. Just a desk, a flag in the corner, and a woman who looks like she’s officiated a hundred of these already this week.
“Please stand here,” she says, gesturing.
We step into place, side by side.
Close enough that our shoulders almost touch. I become hyper-aware of everything.
The warmth of him beside me. The steady rise and fall of his chest. The faint scent of his cologne.
“Are you ready to begin?” the officiant asks.
Jaxon answers first. “Yes.”
I swallow. “Yes.”
She starts speaking, but I barely hear a word. It feels distant, like I’m watching it happen from the outside.
Until—
“Do you, Zara Winslow…”
My breath catches.
“…take Jaxon Halberg…”
Time slows.
“…to be your husband?”
My throat is dry, but I manage to get the words out. “I do.”
The officiant continues. “Do you, Jaxon Halberg…”
I turn my head slightly, looking at him. His strong jaw. His mouth I already know too well. His expression, steady and serious.
And I realize—I know this man.
Maybe this isn’t the wedding I dreamed about as a kid. Not romantic. Not grand.
But he’s a good man.
And with that thought, the nerves fade.
“…take Zara Winslow…”
His gaze stays locked on mine.
“…to be your wife?”
“I do.”
Something light and bright blooms in my chest.
The officiant nods, satisfied.
I blink in surprise when Jaxon produces a set of simple wedding bands. When did he even have time to get those?
He takes mine first. His fingers close around my hand.
He slides the ring onto my finger, and the contact sends a small, unexpected shiver up my arm.
I do the same for him.
His hand is larger. Rougher. Familiar in a completely different way.
The ring settles into place.
And just like that—we’re married.
“By the power vested in me…”
The officiant finishes.
“…you may kiss.”
The words hang in the air, and my pulse spikes.
Jaxon turns toward me slowly, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.
His hand comes up first, brushing lightly along my jaw.
Then his mouth finds mine in a soft kiss.
It’s not heated, not like before—but it still makes my heart kick and my toes curl.
Then he pulls back, too soon.
The clerk clears her throat, and reality crashes back in.
We sign papers. Names. Dates. Legal confirmation of what just happened.
“Congratulations,” she says with a smile.
We step out of the courthouse together, and I glance down at my hand.
The ring catches the sunlight, glinting back at me.
I’m Zara Halberg now.